


fight for you

by vending_machine



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: First Kiss, I'm sorry (not sorry), Injury, M/M, badass Midorima, fight, poor takao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vending_machine/pseuds/vending_machine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takao gets into a fight and Midorima comes to find him</p>
            </blockquote>





	fight for you

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really wanted a badass Midorimacchi <3 and a soft side to our baby tsundere, which is how this came about.
> 
> sorry about any OOCness.
> 
> but I hope you enjoy!! ^.^

Takao sighed as he left the gym, having been held back late to help clean after basketball practise, and found three guys loitering outside, blocking the way to the rickshaw on the other side of the parking lot, pointing and laughing about it. Takao was glad Shin-chan had already left, he had some important family meal tonight which meant he couldn't stay for his extra practise - but Takao knew that as soon as he was free the green-haired shooter would be down at the local court making up for it. Which was just another reason in the long line of them as to why he loved his teammate, as stupid and pointless as this unrequited love seemed to be.

“Can I help you?” he asked, folding his arms, focusing in on the males to take his mind away from his frustrating, wonderful teammate.

He practically sighed again as the three of them turned towards him, looking annoyed at being interrupted.

“What do you want?” the leader, who he automatically dubbed number one in his head, sneered at him, looking down his nose.

“That’s my rickshaw,” he returned, gesturing to the fact that they were blocking the way. “I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Oh yeah?” the second, number two, sniggered. He looked more stupid than anything, his empty smile sending warning signals shooting down Takao’s spine.

“Yes. So if you could move?”

“What if we don’t want to?”

Takao groaned inwardly. These guys were determined to pick a fight.

“I’d ask you again.”

“I think this one’s giving us lip,” number two said, taking a step closer to Takao and the point guard felt more warning signals flash as he smelt the alcohol on the male’s breath. “I think he needs to be taught a lesson.”

“I’d agree with that,” number one sneered. “Wanna apologise, shorty?”

“I’d rather not. I’ve not done anything wrong,” Takao replied simply. “I’d rather you let me through.”

A surprising blow to the gut cut off his words. His breath came out in a rush as he bent over automatically in pain. Another reached him and he knew that it was too late. These guys wouldn’t be reasoned with.

He tried to fight back, but one guy, even as athletic and tough as Takao, couldn’t hold up against three others, even if they were drunk and idiots. Especially when one of them managed to get behind him and restrain him, reducing all of his ability to fight back or even defend himself. After a few minutes, he was on the ground and the others were laughing above him, moaning about how ‘pathetic’ he was, and how they wished he’d put up more of a fight.

He wanted to retort, but the pain in his gut after several consecutive hits was preventing him from taking in any more air than what was necessary for breathing. His eye was also throbbing, threatening to swell shut. The only thing he was grateful for was that nothing was bleeding. Their punches had been hard, but not very well aimed. He’d just be bruised and stiff for days.

"What is going on here?" a cold, quiet voice broke the brief silence that came between Takao’s deep, painful breaths and the three boys stopped cackling for a second.

Takao's eyes cracked open as his heart plummeted to the floor. "Move away from him. Now," the voice continued.

Midorima was standing about two metres away, watching the three boys standing over Takao with narrowed, unimpressed eyes.

"Who are you?" number one demanded, turning to see the newcomer, his back to Takao. "Ah, the weirdo Midorima, I see. Come to rescue your pathetic partner here?" he sneered but, as would be expected, there was no visible response from Shutoku’s shooter, who just stared impassively at the airhead.

Takao really wanted to get up and drag Shin-chan away. His light couldn't get hurt, Takao wouldn't let it happen. But the hawk-eyed boy couldn’t _do_ anything, the kick to his stomach was still making him feel like he was about to vomit everywhere. The helplessness on top of that just made the entire situation twenty times worse until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He tried to move, to do _something,_ his heart racing desperately, but a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him and he had to place his hand back on the cold pavement just to stay conscious as his vision dimmed to grey.

"I think the question is more who are you?" Midorima replied coldly, fingers adjusting his glasses on his nose. "And what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

It was the first time Takao had ever heard Shin-chan swear like that and his stomach twisted, worried beyond the pain.

"We're just having some fun," number two sniggered, "why don't you move along? Unless you want us to have fun with you, too?" he took a threatening step forward, but Midorima still did nothing. Takao was shouting in his head, praying that his partner wouldn’t be hurt.

"I would have to decline on both accounts," Midorima's voice was impassive and cold and it scared Takao more than being beaten up had. He wished that Midorima wouldn’t get hurt, but he’d never seen this side to the man he wanted to call a friend and didn’t know what it meant. It was terrifyingly distant. "I will ask you only once to leave."

"Leave? Why would we do that? We’ve been having fun," two retorted, smirking.

“I see nothing _fun_ here.” Midorima folded his arms and Takao rested his head against the floor, no longer able to keep it up. Everything hurt, a low throbbing pain that spiked whenever when he moved, but at the moment it was all drowned out by worry for Shin-chan. Takao couldn’t fix this, not like he fixed so many other things, and it hurt more than the injuries did.

“You want to see?” one butted in, grinning as he took yet another step towards Midorima. “Come on, then. We’ll teach you.”

Takao’s voice broke on a shout as a punch narrowly missed Midorima’s face. Expression never changing, the green-haired boy moved swiftly as he dodged punches from the other two who headed for him, and started to fight back.

Takao could barely breathe, but this time it was for a whole other reason. Midorima's body and movements were nothing but a symphony of pure grace, even as he moved almost too fast for the eye to follow, blocking one sloppy punch aimed at him and returning it with a deadly efficient one of his own.

After barely two minutes, two of the boys were on the floor retching and the other had just fallen over backwards in front of the green haired basketball player, staring up at him in awe and not just a little terror.

"None of you will want to see or speak to the either of us ever again, I believe," Midorima finally said, barely looking at the bullies, using two fingers to push up his glasses. Something was wrong with the picture there but Takao was still a little too hazy to figure it out. Luckily the faintness had passed so he could struggle up to a sitting pose as Midorima came to crouch beside him, effectively ignoring the other three boys gasping in pain near them.

"Can you stand?" He asked gently, green eyes searching grey. "Or do I need to carry you?"

"I'm okay," Takao replied hoarsely, and took Midorima's right hand as it was offered out, his own fingers aching and sore from some of the punches he’d been able to land in return for the ones he’d received.

Or at least, he'd thought he could stand. But as soon as he put weight on his legs his knees gave out, sending him stumbling forward into Midorima. He got a face full of warm chest and solid muscle before the taller boy’s hands carefully reached under and cupped his elbows, helping him stand a little better and steadily, supporting him without adding more pain. He had a brief thought of how _good_ his partner smelled and closed his eyes.

"I'll carry you to the rickshaw," Midorima murmured, his voice soft and gentle and filled with something else Takao had never heard from the miracle and couldn’t decipher. Making sure Takao was steady on his feet before turning around, the green-haired shooter crouched and Takao could only stare at his back in shock.

"Come on, baka," Midorima sighed, sounding like his usual self again. "We don't have all day."

Nodding even though Midorima wasn't looking his way and suppressing the wince when even that hurt, Takao leant forward and somehow wrapped his legs around Midorima's waist as his torso lay flush against the broad back he'd dreamt about many a time.

Midorima's hands gently came under his thighs as he supported him, giving him a few seconds to adjust before he started to walk.

"How long were you there?" Midorima asked.

Takao sighed and rested his forehead on one of Midorima's shoulders, wanting to crawl into the heat that Shin-chan’s body was providing and never let go.

"Only ten minutes or so," he murmured, hazily. If he’d been in full possession of all of his brain functions, he’d never have admitted it, just laughed it off so his friend wouldn’t worry.

"Ten minutes?" Midorima's voice dropped another several degrees and Takao couldn't stop a shiver as foreboding slid through his veins. "Why didn’t you run, you idiot?"

Takao pressed his face harder into Midorima's shoulder and didn't reply.

The taller boy sighed, but said no more, carrying his shadow the last few minutes in silence until they reached the rickshaw.

"Get in," Midorima sighed. "I'll pedal this once."

"You can't take me home," Takao protested, finally lifting his head from Midorima's shoulder. "It's totally out of the way."

"I am well aware of this," Midorima said curtly. "Which is why I'm taking you back to my house. My father is a doctor, he'll check your injuries and make sure it's nothing too serious."

"Shin-chan," Takao was cut off as he was smoothly and with very little jostling swung around Midorima's torso until he was cradled in the shooter’s arms. 

"Put your arms around my neck," his friend ordered softly and Takao blindly agreed, linking his fingers behind Midorima’s neck as he was gently lowered into the rickshaw like a baby into a crib.

"Is anything bleeding?" Shin-chan murmured softly, crouching down as his eyes ran somewhat worriedly over Takao’s slumped form.

"No," Takao replied, trying to be as reassuring as possible. "Just my pride."

Shin-chan didn’t smile at that, but leant forward and gently pushed hair soaked with cold sweat back off Takao’s forehead. “Try not to sleep, okay? I don’t know if you’ve got a concussion or not, but the possibility is high.”

Takao sighed and leant into Midorima’s hand as it lingered in his hair. “Thank you, Shin-chan. My saviour,” he managed to tease a little, but his words were serious under the usual light tone.

“Idiot,” Midorima retorted sharply. “I’m nobody’s saviour.”

He stood up suddenly and left Takao staring at him helplessly as he rounded the cart and climbed onto the bike. Sighing, Takao closed his eyes but, as he felt sleep creeping up on him, opened them again remembering his partner’s words.

It took twenty minutes for them to get back to Midorima’s house, and Takao was gathering the strength to try and stand when Midorima’s arms slid underneath him and picked him up almost effortlessly, like he was a child again. Takao suppressed his wince as his injuries were jostled, but Shin-chan’s eyes met his and the clear, open concern in that green gaze was enough to distract him. It was not an expression he’d ever seen in his probably-a-friend’s eyes, and it made him wonder exactly how much Shin-chan did actually care for him.

“I can probably walk,” Takao murmured, but he’d already pressed his face into Midorima’s neck and inhaled the warm smell of him, thoughts slipping as his body throbbed in pain.

“I’d rather you not make any possible injury worse,” green eyes looked down at him sharply, but still with that concern that Takao drank in greedily. “It’s only a short distance anyway.”

Midorima rang the doorbell and they waited for a minute before the door was pulled open by his father, Takuya, who seemed to take in the situation without need for explanation and led them straight through to his study.

“I’m assuming Shintarou took care of those responsible?” Takuya asked five minutes later as they were left alone. After gently lowering Takao onto one of the plush leather chairs, Shin-chan had gone to get ice, water and painkillers and Takao felt like weeping in gratitude at the thought of making the pain go away.

“Yes,” Takao nodded and stripped off his t-shirt when asked to.

It was at that second when Shin-chan walked back into the room. Takao saw him stop, eyes taking in the rapidly blooming bruises that were spreading across his chest and stomach, and his lips flatten into a very thin line.

“Thank you, Shintarou,” Takuya took the ice off Shin-chan, who’d come further into the room but his eyes hadn’t left the bruises on Takao’s chest. Midorima didn’t want to admit the dark emotions that were churning up inside him at seeing the dark splotches marring Takao’s usually beautiful skin, didn’t want to give way to the anger that was bubbling inside him, the need to punish those who had caused his partner pain. He wouldn’t allow Takao to be hurt again, he vowed silently.

“Will he be alright?” he directed the question to his father, aware Takao would probably just wave it off with more jokes and insincerity. Takao was good at that, but Midorima had come to understand when to push, when things definitely weren’t right and he liked to think, _hoped_ , that they’d become closer because of it. He knew they were friends, knew Takao admired his basketball prowess, but was unsure as to exactly why the point-guard always hung around with him, and why he’d started in the first place. He was grateful for Takao’s company, even as he’d always feared something like this happening to his partner, even if those thoughts had all revolved around injuries on the basketball court rather than a fistfight.

“You care, Shin-chan?” Takao teased, but hissed when an ice-pack was pressed to his ribs. Midorima felt rage pulse through him but snuffed it out quickly, aware this was neither the time nor place for such displays of emotion. He’d work it out tomorrow in practise.

“Of course I care, dumbass,” Midorima sighed. “Father?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine. Though I’d like it if you’d stay here for the night, Takao. Just so I can keep an eye on you. Doctor’s conscience and all that.”

“Is that alright?” Takao asked. He _really_ didn’t want to have to go home and explain the black eye to his parents just yet.

“Of course,” Takuya smiled gently. “Shintarou, go and set up a futon in your room?”

“Yes, father,” Midorima agreed and, with one final glance at the bruises decorating Takao, left the room again.

“Keep an eye on him tonight, Takao?” Shin-chan’s father asked unexpectedly. Seeing the confusion cross the boy’s face, the older male smiled softly. “He cares for you. He’s used to taking blows like this for other people. Not physical!” he corrected quickly, seeing Takao’s alarm, “but he hates to see anyone become hurt. It’s one of the main reasons why he tries to put so much distance between himself and others. We were so glad when you came along, Shintarou hasn’t had a friend since junior high. Those other basketball geniuses don’t really count,” he added, rolling his eyes.

“But still,” he continued, “would you make sure he’s okay? He punched a few quite hard for you, from the state of his knuckles, and I know he’s too prideful to come to me. Especially since he relies on those fingers.”

Takao felt his stomach twist into new slick knots. _His fingers. That precious left hand._ He hadn’t even thought about that before now, but his memory finally filled his head with the images he’d been too hazy to process earlier. Both hands were used during the fight. Then, as Shin-chan had pushed his glasses up, the tape had been loose and ripped... Takao almost felt nauseous all over again.

“He’ll be fine,” Mr. Midorima assured him, seeing where his thoughts were leading and somewhat pleased that the point-guard understood his son so well. “He’s careful. He’s a good fighter, it was one of the things we insisted he did just in case, and he took to it well. He still does from the looks of it, though it’s been a couple of years.”

Takao had to admit he was surprised. But then, thinking back on the gracefulness, the sheer advantage that Shin-chan had clearly had over the others, it lessened some. He’d been stunning. Just another side to his sweet tsundere that he’d never known. Takao promised himself he’d find out the rest of his green-haired partner’s secrets, even if it took him a lifetime.

Shin-chan came back in five minutes later and helped Takao climb the stairs to his room, taking most of his weight. After chucking a clean t-shirt and new sweatpants at him, Shin-chan left him alone to change, which Takao was grateful for. He knew that his partner probably wouldn’t look anyway, but he especially didn’t want his team’s ace seeing any more of the bruises across his back and legs. The other boys had really done a number on him, but the painkillers were starting to kick in, much to his relief. He changed as quickly as possible and had sat down on top of the futon that had been laid out, resting against the wall as he closed his eyes and waited for his friend to come back. The t-shirt he was wearing was warm and smelt good, like Shin-chan, and he just took the time to relax and enjoy it while he could.

“Are you alright?” Takao opened his eyes to see Midorima entering the room silently, having also changed into sweatpants and a green t-shirt that matched his eyes and hair perfectly.

“I’m better now,” Takao replied, watching as Midorima came to kneel down close to him, offering a glass of water and holding out a couple of blue pills.

“Dad says to take these. They’ll help you sleep, and won’t affect the painkillers.”

“Thanks,” Takao took the pills, but frowned when Shin-chan did nothing but sit over him like he was keeping guard.

Midorima watched Takao take the pills and felt relief overwhelm him. Takao would be alright. The pain in his knuckles was suddenly a million times worth it, as long as his partner was safe.

“Are _you_ okay?” Takao asked, and Midorima sighed. His partner was far too observant. It was one of the reasons he wanted him and loved him so, yet at times it could be immeasurably irritating.

“I could kill them for what they did to you,” he admitted, bending down so he could take the glass from Takao’s hand and place it on his bedside table.

“You almost did,” Takao murmured softly. “They’re not going to bother any of us again. Speaking of which, I didn’t know you could fight, Shin-chan.”

Midorima shrugged, still standing a few metres from his partner next to the bed. “I took a few classes some time ago. Some things don’t fade. It’s good for my stamina and muscle control.”

“I see,” Takao nodded, pleased that moving his head didn’t hurt any more.

“Besides, they deserved what came to them,” Midorima added, unable to meet Takao’s eyes for fear of judgement. He was just so fucking _angry_. No-one had the right to hurt others the way they had hurt Takao.

“Come here?” Takao requested softly, hearing the truth in Shin-chan’s words and feeling warmth mix with worry. To his surprise, Shin-chan obeyed without a word, coming to kneel next to him as he adjusted his glasses.

“Your fingers,” Takao gasped, taking Midorima’s hand in his like it was precious and gently staring at the bruised knuckles, black and blue from the fight. He hadn’t yet retaped them, so parts of his fingers were covered in dirty, ripped tape and the rest were unusually exposed.

“It’s nothing,” Midorima dismissed it easily, but didn’t pull his hand away, enjoying the feel of Takao’s fingers against his own, skin-to-skin for the first time ever.

His cheeks flushed red as Takao, still working on instinct, pressed a soft kiss to bruised knuckles.

“Takao?” Midorima questioned, unsure what was going on. But he still made no move to pull away, and Takao delighted in the fact.

“A kiss to make it better,” Takao smiled gently. “Thank you, Shin-chan. I’d have been so much worse off if you hadn’t come along. _And_ you’ve hurt your fingers for me. So there’s no need to do anything else, not when you’ve already done so much. How are you going to play now?” he added, his thumb brushing soft circles on Shin-chan’s wrist without really realising it. Midorima did though, and with every stroke felt his cheeks heat another degree or two.

The green-haired miracle shrugged, but his eyes never left Takao’s, a rare occurrence. Takao felt his own face heating, unable to read the other boy’s thoughts.

“Well, I’ll rest for a few days. Besides, you’re more important than my fingers,” Shin-chan murmured unexpectedly. Takao felt his heart stop. That was essentially the same as him saying that he was more important than _basketball_ in Shin-chan’s life. If he thought about it properly, he’d be pretty sure it was an exaggeration, but it still warmed him up from the inside and brought more pain relief.

Takao froze as he Midorima leant in, ever so carefully, and pressed the softest kiss to the bruise forming under his eye. “A kiss to make that better.”

Takao felt his face flame, mind frantically racing as if he could figure out what that kiss _meant_. “Shin-chan,” he sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against his friend’s and closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner,” Shin-chan sighed, his eyes also closing as his bruised fingers still rested in Takao’s and his other supported him on the floor, leaning over Takao’s lap as the hawk-eyed point guard leant against the wall.

“No,” Takao’s eyes opened to see Midorima’s shut and his stomach fluttered. The trust Shin-chan was placing in him… “You came, that’s all that mattered. You saved me.”

“Hardly,” Midorima scoffed, “You’re here, bruised and injured. You couldn’t even _stand_ while I was just sitting by the rickshaw waiting for you-.”

“Hey,” Takao cut him off gently, his other hand going to the side of Shin-chan’s face, cupping his cheek gently. Green eyes met his and he wondered if this was going too far. They weren’t boyfriends, much to his regret. And Shin-chan wasn’t interested in him. Takao was pretty sure Shin-chan wasn’t interested in anyone. Was he? “You came,” he murmured again. “You beat those guys up for me. You hurt your _fingers_ for me.”

“Of course,” Midorima scoffed. “They needed to be taught a lesson. I couldn’t have them hurting you,” he added softly. “I told you, my fingers don’t matter if you’re in trouble and I can do something. But don’t do that again, Takao. Please.”

Green eyes burned into grey and Takao felt himself nodding, before his lips lifted the two inches separating their mouths and pressed softly against Shin-chan’s as if to seal the promise, despite his thoughts only seconds ago. He _knew_ it was probably a bad idea, but he needed this. Needed to finally show Shin-chan how he felt. And he knew of no better time to do it.

They both froze for a long second and Takao felt himself burn, his face flushing redder than ever. _Fuck_. He’d messed that up. He’d ruined it all.

About to pull back, his brain in total chaos, he froze again when Midorima’s lips moved hesitantly against his. Forcing himself to relax, he tilted his head as both of Midorima’s hands came to cup his face in return and accepted the kiss, returning it with some enthusiasm.

“Takao,” Shin-chan murmured softly after they’d pulled away. “I-.”

“ _Bemyboyfriend_?” Takao said it really fast, getting it out in one breath.

Shin-chan paused, his face slowly but surely turning red, clashing with his hair. “Okay,” he agreed softly.

“Okay?” Takao repeated dumbly, his heart stopping. That had actually just _happened?_

“Yes. I’ll be your… your boyfriend,” Midorima flushed attractively and Takao felt his heart skip a beat yet again. “I… I wasn’t sure you felt like that. For me,” Midorima confessed hesitantly, shifting off his knees to sit next to Takao. They still hadn’t let go of each other’s hands, and it was the only thing giving Midorima strength to continue at that second.

“Why else would I do all of those ridiculous things for you?” Takao teased in response, his heart rate finally evening out to a somewhat normal level. His fingers squeezed Midorima’s bruised ones gently, his heart soaring as the waves of joy started to wash out the last of the pain lingering throughout his body.

“That was my reasoning,” Midorima admitted. “For a positive. But you never showed anything else… so I…”

“It’s alright, Shin-chan,” Takao said, his heart suddenly light and free. “I should have known you aren’t the type who’d be able to confess easily. I just… I wasn’t sure you wanted me either, and couldn’t risk the friendship we have for what I thought was a small possibility. Plus, all of the days I was sure I could confess, you’d always come in and say we had a bad match that day according to Aha-Osa,” he admitted, eyes dropping down to their linked hands.

“I see,” Midorima mused softly. He was relieved it hadn’t been just him. He would make this work. He knew he wasn’t the most sociable of people, was horribly difficult to get along with, but Takao had seen past that. He’d seen him in the way that no-one outside his family ever had. And he practically owed his newfound happiness to that.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Takao checked. “I don’t want you doing anything you’re not ready for.”

“I want this,” Midorima replied, as certain about this as he held faith in Oha Asa, and Takao felt his stomach clench in relief and happiness. “I want you.”

Takao couldn’t stop the smile from blooming on his face as he leant to the side and rested his head on Midorima’s shoulder. “I want you too.”

“I’ll take you out,” Shin-chan said hesitantly, trying to think of all the things a good boyfriend would do. He had no experience, and while he knew that Takao knew this, he still wanted to prove that he would try. That he _could_ do this. That he could compromise, and it wouldn’t be Takao doing all of the work as usual. Not in this, anyway. “When you’re better.”

Takao smiled and nodded. “Sounds good,” he agreed. “Any time.”

Midorima lifted his hand gently and pressed a kiss to sore knuckles.

Takao gently tugged Midorima’s hand back towards his own mouth, pressing a soft kiss to each knuckle.

“A kiss for each finger. To help them get better as fast as possible,” he whispered, and enjoyed the sight of Shin-chan’s face turning scarlet. Barely a second later, his mouth opened in a yawn as the pills started to take effect and Midorima smiled softly.

“Lie down,” Shin-chan gently tugged him across the mat so he was lying on his side facing the wall.

Takao was a little baffled, but did so without real questions. Shin-chan lay down behind him, taking his glasses off and placing them out of the way.

“Is this okay?” he murmured in his ear, one arm sliding around Takao’s waist.

“Perfect,” Takao admitted.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No,” Takao shuffled back a little so his back was flush against Shin-chan’s chest and closed his eyes. “Good night, Shin-chan. Thank you for today.”

“Goodnight, Takao,” Midorima replied. Takao couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips as he felt a gentle kiss across the nape of his neck. Tonight might have started out ridiculously shit, but it had ended better than he ever could have expected.

And now he had Shin-chan, he was never letting him go if he could help it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm (for those that may follow me [thank you if you do, so much <3]) I am going on a small hiatus because exams/essays/job interviews/translation work/my 21st birthday are all coming up sooner than I'd like...  
> however! I do have an idea for a new fanfic and I will definitely have this up on Kurokocchi's birthday (because baby deserves ALL the love, and it's exactly a week after mine so I should have time to write it then in my hungover state aha)
> 
> as always, kudos & comments always v.v. appreciated  
> <3


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